Ascension
by Beardmead
Summary: The seat of an empire is up for grabs as the Dragonborn attempts to hold together an agreement founded on greed and lust.
1. Chapter 1: Zulsebrom

**ASCENSION**

**Part 1: Zulsebrom**

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I woke to a throbbing headache. The mead had definitly gone to my head. The celebration had been in my honor, and the honor of the the new High King Ulfric. We had taken the city of Solitude, and put the Imperial General Tulius in chains to be a hostage. The Civil War was over, but my conquest had just begun.

Pulling myself out of bed was no easy task. My sore muscles and stiff joints screamed in protest. I stumbled wearily over to my wardrobe and into my boiled leather doublet. I broke my fast in silence as my wife and children stirred upstairs.

"I didn't hear you rise. Good morning my love." Ysolda sat beside me and shared my meal. "I'm glad you've returned."

"I fear not for long. Ulfric plans on securing the borders. I'll be needed in the Palace." My hand enveloped hers and squeezed.

"Good morning Father!" Blaise skipped down the tairs to join us at the table. "I heard you captured the General!" He had suffered as a stableboy in Solitude before I brought him into my family.

"Father! You're home!" Sofia ran to the table and wrapped her arms around me. "I missed you!"

"And I you!." I gulped down a mug of cold water. "I have a gift for all of you. I built a home for us. Somewhere calm and distant from these troubles."

"But the War has ended." Ysolda frowned. "Everywhere is safe now."

"The Empire may seek to reclaim Skyrim." I replied. "I don't want you to be living next to Ulfric's throne in Titus Mede comes marching across Eastmarch."

"Very well." Ysolda took my dish and mug. "I'll gather our things."

"There's no need. I asked the Khajit caravan to take care of them." Being well connected within Riften definitely had its advantages. I got to my feet and headed for the stairs. Sofia jumped on my back and I lifted her onto my shoulders. I walked down the hall and set Sofia down. "Go get what's in the chest at the foot of my bed." I told them. They both ran into my bedroom gleefully, and emerged a moment later with a new wooden sword for Blaise and a doll for Sofia. "Go show your mother!" They hurried down the stairs to play with their new toys.

"Wake up you oaf." Calder grunted in displeasure. "Come on. I'm fairly certain I had more mead than you."

"You did." My housecarl sat up drowsely. "But I drank more ale."

I smiled and reached down to help him to his feet. "Get ready to go. Ulfric will need us."

"It never ends with that one does it."

"Nay, it doesn't. Bring your armor and weapons. Our orders won't be to cook his majesty's breakfast."

I returned to my room and brought my own armor out. "Blaise! Come help me!" He rushed up the stairs, swinging his toy sword all the way.

"What is it father?" Blaise put the blade in his belt.

"It's time you learned how to put on armor." I gestured him over to the bed. His attention span was short, but he learned quickly. I was soon covered in heavy steel plate. Each strap fastened tightly until it felt secure. "Your armor should feel like a second layer of skin."

"Father?" Blaise inquired after he tightened my sheath across my back. "Does your sword have a name?"

"Aye. It was dubbed Wyrmsbane by a close friend of mine." In truth, Esbern had chosen the title after I slayed the dragon Parthunaax. The blade was entirely dragonbone; the hilt, polished ebony. A fiery red ruby was afixed to the pommel. I had enchanted it while studying at the College of Winterhold, and would burst into flames during conflict.

"I wish my sword had a name." Blaise glanced at his dull blade in despair.

"Someday soon, you'll join me in battle, and prove your worth. Then we will name your sword. Until then, practice with Gregor. He is my housecarl in the Pale, and will be waiting for you at our new home."

"I am ready my Thane." Calder was waiting at the door, fully armed and prepared to serve. "Ulfric has sent a messenger to bring us to him."

"Very well. Hand my my helmet Blaise." I tucked it under my arm and headed downstairs. Ysolda and Sofia embraced me and said their goodbyes.

I pushed open the door and inhaled the crisp, fresh air. Windhelm was consistantly frigid, but I didn't mind. I had grown used to the snow and frequent blizzards.

"Right this way sir." A Stormcloak soldier gestured for me to follow him.

"You go ahead soldier. I have an errand to run."

"King Ulfric requests your presence at once." He protested.

"Ulfric would not be King if it weren't for me. Surely he can wait a while longer." The guard was visibly offended, but he did not voice his distaste. "Come Calder. Let us find Brunwulf."

We found the old veteran in the Grey Quarter, knocking some sense into Rolff Stone-Fist. The war hero disliked Ulfric's treatment of the Dunmer. Rolff however, frequently voiced his opinion and made racist remarks as he stumbled about the slum in the small hours of the morning.

"Brunwulf! You seem agitated!" called Calder. The fighting immediatly stopped once they noticed us.

"My apologies Thane." He saluted and nodded to Calder. "I did not realize you had approached."

"It matters little. Besides, he deserves it." I glared at Rolff as he stood. "Return to your home, drunk. Brunwulf, come with me."

The nord walked with me to the New Gnisis Cornerclub, an inn for the local Dunmer. I had some food brought to him and Calder bought another ale. "I need your help Brunwulf. The war may be over, but the danger is long from gone."

"Aye." the nord grunted between mouthfuls. "I have already heard reports of violence amongst the guards."

"The people are unhappy. Ulfric will demand taxes be payed by the Orc Strongholds, and several Khajit caravans have been raided by soldiers."

"Ulfric seeks to bring Skyrim under Nord rule, and put the other races to the sword." Brunwulf had finished and wipped his beard with a rag. "This new nation will not last long if we Nords are stood upon the backs of the other races."

"Exactly. That is why I need your help. Ulfric has requested to speak with me. I intend to remove him from the throne."

"I agree." Brunwulf nodded. "But the people won't. That would just antagonize the Nords."

"I know, but there is no better time to act then now, while he is vulnerable." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I'll round up some men to aid us. Ambarys!"

The bartender glance up from his sweeping and came to our table. "What is it friend?"

"Round up your men. Our time has come."

The Dark Elf smiled. His blood red eyes lit with joy. "Very good. We will meet you at the Palace."

We left together, Calder trailing behind us. I noticed glimpses of movement as we left the Grey Quarter and walked to the Great doors of the Palace of Kings. The guard their recognized me and Brunwulf and nodded to us.

I pushed open the great wooden doors to the Palace and approached the throne. Ulfric was seated upon it. His steward and housecarl stood on his right and left. Galmar Stone-Fist sat at the end of the banquet table, eating a hunk of bread.

"Good morning Ulfric!" I called out as I approached the stone seat. "Sorry to keep you waiting!"

"Indeed! There is much we need to discuss." Ulfric had donned the Jagged Crown of old and grinned at my arrival.

"Aye." I replied. "Much you need to explain."

"You seem angry Dovakiin." He sat up and crossed his arms. "What troubles you so?"

"When I joined the Stormcloacks, I hoped to unify Skyrim in order to claim it as our own. But after three long months of fighting, I realize that you don't seek this."

"I do not understand my friend. I have unified the nords." Ulfric's smile had turned into a confused glare.

"Skyrim is not made up of just Nords," I stood at the base of the steps. Calder stood beside me. "and with your leadership, Skyrim will fall to her knees."

"Take your cold words somewhere else." Galmar stepped between us and placed a hand on my chest.

"Step aside housecarl." I glared at him icily, and then at Ulfric. "I challange you to single combat. Just as you challanged Torygg."

His court gasped at my demand. "Very well Stormblade. We will see who is the greater warrior. Guards! Move the tables!"

The guards quickly pushed the long dining tables to either side of the palace. Ulfric's court were escorted to them as well. Galmar helped Ulfic don his armor and handed him his war axe. He brandished it and stretched his arm.

His armor was polished steel inlaid with ebony. On his chest were the sigils of Riften, Windhelm, and Winterhold; the first three holds to take Ulfric's side. Two metal bears roared on his shoulders and a blue cloak was drapped under the heavy plate. His helm covered his entire head but his mouth and eyes, presumedly so he could still use his Thu'um. Galmar handed him his war axe that glowed with a certain magic that made me want to run, but I ignored it.

"Are you ready Jarl Ulfric?" I drew my great sword and prepared myself for battle.

"I am ready old friend," he stepped foward confidently. "and I am sorry."

He opened his mouth in prepreation for a shout. I anticipated this and did the same. His Thu'um disapated against mine and slammed into him, weakened only slightly. Ulfric was pushed back, but kept his footing. He rushed forward and raised his axe. I readied my sword and met his charge. His axe descended quickly, but I met it with my blade and pushed it away.

He staggered back and came at me again, this time low. I jumped back and swung at him from the left. He parried and backed away.

"You cannot win Ulfric!" I raised my blade across my body in preparation for an attack.

He spun and slashed at me and tackled me to the ground. We wrestled until he had me pinned. "Neither can you, traitor." Ulfric put his axe against my throat and prepared for the finishing blow. My sword lay just out of my reach, but I realized that I had another option.

"FUS RO DAH!" Ulfic flew up and hit the great chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The unrelenting force of my shout caused the chain that held it in place to break. I rolled out of the way just before the chandelier hit the ground in a heap, Ulfric beneath it.

"It has been an honor," Ulfric rasped, "to die by your hand."

I retrieved my great sword and lifted Ulfric out of the pile. I placed at the foot of his throne and put my blade up to his chest. He sat up and looked me in the eye. "Do it." He gripped the blade and pulled it towards himself, "I will die with honor."

Without another thought, I plunged the sword between the plate mail up to the hilt. He gurgled quietly as his eyes rolled back and blood poured out of his mouth. I grasped his collar and pushed his corpse off Wyrmsbane in triumph. Caldar approached me and took the sword to be cleaned.

"Hail Dragonborn!" The call came from the far end of the throne room. Brunwulf had entered with his Dunmer allies, "Windhelm belongs to you know."

"And hopefully, all of Skyrim."

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**Probably the first FanFic I'm serious about. Let me know what you think. PM me for suggestions, and I'd be happy to add any characters. By the time, most of you read this, I'll be well into the second chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2: Veysunin

**ASCENSION**

**Part 2: **Veysunin

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"Captain! You're needed on the deck!" my skinny butler said from behind my door, "Your first-mate is insisting that you dress at once!"

"I hope he is less vague that you are Regallus." I rose from my cot and opened my wardrobe, "Send for my squire and breakfast."

"At once captain." Regallus walked briskly away as I put a mail shirt over my cloth tunic.

"You called for me captain." My squire opened the door to my chambers.

"Quickly Pan. Qhor has sent for me." He rushed forward and shoved his mitts on his small hands. I had laid my armor on my bed and the frost vapors had already made my fur blanket stiff with ice.

My armor was made of a substance that the Skaal tribe referred to as stahlrim. It glowed with a cool blue radiance, and was dangerously cold to the touch. The Skaal believed that their gods had blessed the ice for its beauty and made it hard, but still lightweight.

I put on the heavy layer of furs that was required to prevent frostbite, and Pan fastened each component to me with quick, deft hands. Regallus brought me my food as my squire was tightening my breastplate, and I chewed on the dried horker jerky and gulped down the ice cold wine.

"Thank you Pan. That will be all." I retrieved my swords from their place in my trunk, and rushed up the stairs to join Qhor. The wind bit through my cloak, forcing me to raise my hood.

"Captain! Jarl Ulfric is slain at the hands of the Dragonborn!" Qhor shouted as he rushed across the deck to meet me. The big nord was dressed in heavy steel plate and his Morningstar hung from his hip, the chains drug on the deck. His beard glistened with frost and snow. "The Dovakiin has taken his throne and declared himself High King!"

"Make course for Windhelm." The crew jumped in obedience, "The crew of _The Silver Wind _needs to pay our tribute to the slayer of my long-time enemy."

"I beg you to reconsider captain." Qhor caught me by the shoulder as I turned towards the helm. "That city is no place for our kind."

"Our identity as pirates does not exempt us from honor." I shrugged him away. "Besides, I'm sure even the Voice in the North would love to buy himself a fleet."

We passed Winterhold before noon. The blizzard that followed us from Dawnstar quickened our journey around the Cape of Collapse, and we reached the docks of Windhelm before dark. The thirty-three ship fleet had to row single file down the White River. It proved to be quite an inconvenience to other captains, just as I had hoped. _The Silver Wind _made port at the docks while my other captains formed a line ten ships deep to blockade the city until I returned.

When the gangplank was lowered, we were greeted by twenty of Windhelm's finest. "Disperse immediately pirate!" yelled the one in charge, "This is in direct violation of at least eight trade regulations!"

"Quiet dry-legs!" Qhor has a certain distaste for those who spent their lives on the ground. "The captain seeks audience with the Dovakiin."

"We come in peace to talk of an agreement." I pushed by them and made my way towards the stairs leading to the Sea-Gate.

"Not so fast brigand!" The commander grabbed my wrist with his bare hand and recoiled in pain. He screamed and clutched his frostbitten hand that was already turning black. "He attacked me! Kill them!"

All at once, the twenty-five members of my crew drew their crossbows and stepped forward. The guards had readied their shields in anticipation and their commander reached for his weapon. I drew my first scimitar and kicked him to the ground.

"Let it be known that I drew no weapon on these docks." I grabbed him by his neck and lifted him over my head. The muscles in my arm strained at the weight of his armor. "Let it be known that Abdul of Atmora, the dark-skinned Iceborn, killed no man this day."

A sigh of relief came from the commander as he slouched in submission. I grabbed his belt and tossed him into the river. He came up pale and shuddering as his soldiers pulled him from the water. Qhor and I vaulted up the stairs two at a time and pushed open the great gates of Windhelm. The sight that greeted us was no more pleasant than the stench.

The Grey Quarter smelled of a thousand chamber pots full of human excrement and dead skeevers. The ice was brown from the dust and feces. The Dunmer inhabitants ducked into the nearby houses and apartments. I noticed several prying eyes peeking around corners.

We made our way to the Palace of Kings. A man I recognized as Brunwulf Free-Winter stood by the door with a great sword held in front of him. The tip rested on the black stone between his feet.

"Halt." Free-Winter glared at me with two icy blue eyes. "The King has no appointment with you. He is currently at council with the Jarls."

"Perfect timing then." We kept moving. Brunwulf reached for my shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that brother." Qhor gave the bald man a look of mercy. "Spare yourself the pain."

"We are no king slayers. I seek to treat with this so called Dragonborn."

We continued into the palace. The doors slammed behind us; the noise echoing across the hall.

"So," I made my way down the corridor, towards the great stone seat. "the last Dragonborn sits upon the ancient seat of Skyrim's greatest rulers. How can you expect a pirate such as myself to abstain from the opportunity to serve the King on the Ice?"

**If you haven't realized by now, the name of each chapter is a word in the dragon tongue. If you want, you can look up the definitions online. This fanfic will definitly have several chapters. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review.**


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